The legendary story of the former Music Department chairman who is quoted as having told his class of composition students that music should be "seen and not heard" basically summarizes Harvard's approach to the arts: academic and divorced from the experience of performing.

Saddled with the reputation as a paradise for pedants, Harvard admissions officials found for years that the problems in recruiting artists was not in contacting them, but in attracting them to come once accepted. But the tide has mysteriously turned over the past five years or so; the rate of artists accepting admission has shot up, so much so that an admissions official estimated last spring that "more athletes turned us down than artists."

So what has happened recently to transform Harvard's image from an asylum for academicians to a refuge for artists?

"Behind it all," said one administrator, "is the philosophy that each generation will be judged according to the art it produces. Harvard is obliged to do its share to save face in light of the future."

Unfortunately, if what holds true for a generation also holds true for a university, Harvard will have earned itself a reputation as a non-productive, non-inspiring institution. Whether out of disinterest or disfavor, Harvard has done little to encourage interest or participation in the arts.

But the new trend doesn't mean much either, and the fact that more artists are flocking to Harvard now than ever before can be attributed more justifiably to universal than University trends. It may be the century-old concept of the "well-rounded" artist, or the current trend away from "specialization." Whatever the reason, the laissez-faire attitude toward the arts which Harvard has maintained from its inauguration in 1638 still applies in 1975. Unlike most other liberal arts colleges, Harvard neither funds artistic organizations on campus, or pays to bring professional performers to Harvard. With few exceptions, all artistic activity on campus has been left to the initiative of individuals and organizations that have had to survive on sheer dedication.

There are a few minor exceptions--glimmers of hope that Harvard is finally waking up and moving in the right direction. In 1973, Presidents Bok and Horner jointly established an Office for the Arts which, although unfamiliar to most undergraduates, organizes special programs through the year, single-handedly runs the dance program, and operates as a fundraiser for the arts. Some students interested in studying dance or a musical instrument during the school year used the office as a referral service to teachers in the Cambridge/Boston area.

The Office of the Arts also runs a unique music subsidy program for students taking lessons during the school year. The money, which Bok has allocated from his presidential discretionary funds, is awarded to students on a dual basis of financial need plus the need for such training. About 60 students received subsidies last year (only 10 were refused the scholarship) and the money paid for up to $300 or one half of a student's annual lesson fees.

Though limited in quantity and self-supported, musical activity at Harvard is generally of very high quality. One reason for this is that the music department devotes itself almost entirely to the study of history and theory, so that the bulk of solo and chamber music performances are given by students at advanced levels who came to Harvard already accomplished musicians. To arrange solo or group recitals, all one has to do is set up a short audition or meeting with a house music tutor.

For the musician more inclined to the fraternization of a large group, there are two orchestras, the University band (composed of a concert wind ensemble and marching band), and a 20-member jazz band. The various vocal organizations include the Harvard Glee Club (a traditional men's chorus of about 75 which appears occasionally with women's college choruses to perform a standard mixed chorus repertoire), the Collegium Musicum, which will perform Beethoven's Ninth with the Boston Symphony this year, the University church choir, the Radcliffe Choral Society, a newly formed women's chorus, the Krokodiloes and the Kuumba singers, a group of black vocalists specializing in gospel music and spirituals.

Nearly all large-scale musical performance at Harvard is done in Sanders Theater, a building styled after a German Gothic cathedral, constructed to commemorate the Civil War dead. Plagued for almost a century by its non-functioning heaters in the numbing winters, super-retention of heat in the sweltering summers, and the perennial disturbance of sirens emanating from the fire station across the street, the otherwise perfect concert hall was shunned not only by performing groups, but kept audiences snug in the coziness of their homes and dorms while marvelous concerts were played to near empty houses.

Things should be drastically different this year--the University has poured about $450,000 into renovating the hall, and by September the theater will be thoroughly soundproofed, airconditioned and adequately heated. Sanders seats about 1200 in its cushioned pews, and fills to capacity several times each year. Soon, the new and improved Sanders may find itself unable to accommodate the hordes of people seeking a beautiful--and comfortable--setting for an evening's entertainment.

"Anyone can begin to dance at Harvard and Radcliffe," claims a brochure on dance here, and while this may be true, things look, pretty bleak for the polished prima ballerina. Offerings in dance are eclectic (Russian conditioning, mime, kabuki) and the selection is very limited. But many women (and a steadily increasing number of men) turn out to unwind twice a week in the afternoon beginning and intermediate modern dance classes in the Radcliffe Gym. Last year, the over-crowded, understaffed, ill-equipped gym was the scene of too many chaotic sessions; and so to facilitate teaching and ensure some private attention, the dance students will be charged a nominal $5 fee in hopes that it will weed out the semi-interested from the gung-ho. "We want to have a legitimate dance program," explained Myra Mayman, coordinator of the Office of the Arts--"we're not here to keep people's feet tapping."

The dance program at Harvard is very young--and still struggling its way to the forefront to tbe recognized as a valid educational experience. One glaring problem with Harvard's dance program is lack of facilities. The Radcliffe Gym, which until now has been the primary location of dance activity, is run by Harvard Athletics, which charges rent for the little space it can afford to give. Discussion about building new facilities for dance and women's athletics--at the Quad or near the football field--has not progressed far beyond that stage. Dance is the only art form for which Harvard will not grant credit to those doing independent work. Dance--probably more severely than any of the arts--has suffered the severe brunt of neglect at Harvard. The avid dancer would be better off looking into some of Boston's excellent dance schools.

Of all the arts, drama has probably fared best. Drama has the benefit of attractive and commodious headquarters, used exclusively for theatrical productions. The Loeb Drama Center is equipped with two theaters (the main stage seats about 550 and the experimental theater about 90), scene and costume shops, offices, and a regular professional staff. The Loeb Ex (experimental theater) is an improvised, intimate theater which is used weekly for the off-beat and smaller productions. Last year, the Loeb Ex was used for the performance of two original musicals written and composed by a Harvard freshman and performed by his classmates. While Harvard does not take great pains to encourage original playwrighting, last year several undergraduates organized a dramatic organization (the Premiere Society) which will devote itself solely to producing original plays by Harvard students.